A Red Mage in a Strange Land
by Nemesis13
Summary: The Girl-Who-Lived, one Iris Potter-Dursley was not all that surprised she ended up in an alternate reality if she were to be truly honest. The world of wizards really didn't appeal to her much, mostly due to their complete and utter lack of common sense, so she rightly assumed someone had done something stupid and this was the net result. Oh well, it IS an adventure after all...
1. Chapter 1

**Iris Potter-Dursley has somehow become just as much of an established character as Lillith Potter-Black at this point, and this story idea was just a direct result of "Well I know how Lillith handles being in the Game of Thrones, how would Iris handle it?"**

 **Lillith is unstable, bored, incredibly powerful while also being a malicious trickster, true to her Fae heritage. Iris on the other hand is pragmatic, easily excitable, doesn't know what the words 'Limits to your powers' mean and is...innocently malicious. Bad things happen to those who cross her, the thing is she never really intends for it to happen, she blames her luck stats for that.**

 **So I figured, why the hell not, lets see what happens when she drops her brand of crazy on an unsuspecting medieval realm and the chaos that stems from her _+50 To Bullshitting t_ rait.**

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 **Edit-Oh and as for her outfit? Knee length jerkin/skirt, white stockings, large red cloak, brown leather finger-less gloves and boots, and a wide brimmed red hat with a white feather in it. Basically, a female Red Mage, go figure eh?**

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A young woman sat up from the small impact crater she had formed upon her landing in an embankment of soft, sparkling, ever so cold snow. Crimson hair the shade of rich dark wine cascaded down her back as eyes of brilliant emerald snapped open to take in her surroundings.

Trees, snow, rocks, well... this could be anywhere in Scotland, wasn't that lovely? A sudden pain shot through her head causing her to whip off her wide brimmed red fedora and push the heels of her hands into her temples to attempt warding off the stabbing pangs.

"Wowzers...that...sucked..."

It most certainly had, she'd been at a Halloween party hosted by that _not_ creepy in the slightest Professor Slughorn and good god had it been boring. The only thing that had made it memorable, up to the point that she was sucked into a random magical vortex that is, was the fact that they were going with 'muggle' traditions and dressing up in costumes for the occasion.

Iris, to the complete lack of surprise of Hermione, Dudley, and Luna went as a Red Mage from Final Fantasy, and the young woman was currently regretting the slightly 'sexier' cut of her clothes that was all thanks to Lavender's insistence.

Seriously, she needed to learn to ignore that girl but it was so difficult when you shared a bloody room with her. The squealing, the happy chirping about how beautiful you'd look with this product, this lip gloss, or these stockings and so forth was grating but she never had the heart to tell the blonde to sod off.

It would have been like kicking a kitten really, and Iris Dorea Potter-Dursley did _not_ kick kittens.

Shakily taking to her feet Iris slapped the hat back into place as she checked her gear; Sword of Gryffindor? Check. Invisibility Cloak currently in the guise of a crimson rider's cloak? Check. Her great grandfathers ever present Webley revolver? Check. Undetectable extension charm bag full of oh so many goodies? Check. Nigh useless -because she was a mage and didn't need a gimp stick, thank you- wand? Check. Hat of +10 Pimping? Check.

"Well...now that that's all sorted...now what?" Hearing riders approach Iris figured it was best to ask the locals, with magic involved on Samhain of all bloody nights there really was no telling where the hell she was currently. Moving through the trees Iris stepped out onto a well beaten dirt road and stood in the center of it. The riders, a bunch of smelly blokes in fur cloaks came to a stop before her, some of them were carrying puppies for some reason and it took all of her willpower to not squeal in delight.

She loved animals, it was a fault of hers really. From Crookshanks to Fluffy nearly all of them returned the emotion, hell even dragons got along with her, it didn't hurt she could speak to them. They were ever so much more entertaining and thoughtful than snakes, who, for the most part only asked her if she had a spare mouse about her. Plebeians.

The lead man broke her from her rather rambling thoughts, "My lady, whatever are you doing out on your own? Are you not afraid of brigands and wildlings?" Annnnd she was confronted with role players, bloody lovely.

She grimaced at that, she loved video games and tabletop RPGs, hell they were the initial catalyst for her rather extensive wandless magic abilities. Well, that and Star Wars.

That being said people who took it to the next extreme...

Well LARP'ing annoyed her to no end, mostly because the grand majority of those involved insisted on running Shakespeare through a wood chipper, and after a time she and Dudley would get bored so they'd wander off, and then inevitably she'd accidentally catch something important on fire and... Wait...what was she thinking about again? Right!

"Truth be told my lord I have no idea where I am, one moment I was in the castle being regaled with a rather tasteless story by a lecherous old man, the next, I was out here..." The men exchanged looks as Iris let her hand fall to the pommel of her ruby encrusted sword, one of the men, a boy really, sneered a bit as he rather snidely spoke up.

"You know how to use that, woman?" Rude much? She was about to say 'Sod it' and throw a fireball at the little shite because, frankly, no one talked to a Dursley like that and got away with anything lighter then second degree burns, when the original speaker snapped at the boy.

"Theon hold your tongue!" Turning back to Iris the bearded man smiled once and nodded, "My apologies my lady, I am Lord Eddard Stark, of house Stark, Warden of the North."

Well damn, that sounded fancy. Well... if she was going to play along with this LARP group she might as well go big.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Stark, I am the Lady Iris Peverell, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, last of my line. I don't suppose you could possibly give me a ride to the next town over? I'd like to try and find my way home but alas it would seem I am much further off course then I initially suspected."

The men looked gobsmacked much to her annoyance and confusion, really was she getting the accent wrong or something? Good god she hated role players.

"Pe-Peverell my lady?" Iris was quite impressed with herself for not rolling her eyes, it was only due to years of hiding her expressions from Professor Snape that she managed it. It tickled her a bit that the taciturn man would be horrified to realize he'd helped her in any way shape or form, patronus fuel there.

"Indeed my lord, my family was wiped out by an...usurper-" that sounded about right for this sort of thing, she hoped anyway. Really how the hell does one explain away the insanity that was Voldemort in a few words? "-and I am all that is left of our line."

It was true too, if you were to strictly go by her birth family that is. If you were to go by the family she'd grown up with they were all fine, mum and dad were probably handing out candy at the moment and Dudley... Shite Dudley was probably beating the stuffing out of Professor Slughorn demanding to know what happened to his baby sister.

She'd ask Hermione for the memory later, that ought to kill a few hours of boredom.

"I...I see..." the man, Eddard, swallowed visibly at that before nodding slightly and muttering to his men. One of them hopped off his horse and brought it to her helping her up into the saddle. Not that she needed the aid, she'd been horseback riding dozens of times with Daphne and Tracy in the past.

"My lady I shall escort you to Winterfell, and we shall talk more once we are settled," well that was interesting. Were these guys actually role players because frankly, Winterfell sounded too damn cool to be thought up off the top of the man's head.

"I appreciate the assistance Lord Stark and apologize for the trouble."

He smiled slightly and nodded in turn, "It is quite all right my lady, after all I would never turn out family."

That was rather nice of him and...wait...what?

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 **If little Iris gets as much reaction as she has from the Avenger's crossover I'll continue this, regardless I hope I at least alleviated a few moments of boredom to you find folks. Do please review.**


	2. I've Led an Interesting Life, Yeah

**This is a bit of an information dump to get the story kick started, so I made it amusing to an extent to get you through it. Don't worry, this will be the only time this happens, I just wanted to get her background out of the way so we can start to have fun with her adventuring across Seven Kingdoms with her friends. Please review!**

 **Oh and Iris is not cruel like Lillith tends to be, but...well don't hurt those she loves...bad things happen.**

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Iris Potter had operated her entire life on the proven knowledge that _nothing_ was impossible when magic was involved, in so long as you want it enough and or dispel your sense of disbelief.

She had discovered her powers at the age of seven, when she'd accidentally thrown a fireball at her big brother and had been rather understandably shocked and horrified at what she had done.

She had panicked over Dudley as he screamed and batted at the smoldering hole in his jacket and Iris's first response was to cast a healing spell on him.

Why not, after all? If she could emulate a red mage's attacks why couldn't she also emulate their support abilities? After a few moments of concentration she'd done the 'impossible' for the first time and healed the injury completely.

Hiding that damn burnt coat from their mum had been a pain in the arse though, but being adrenaline addled children they never considered trying to repair it. She idly wondered what Mrs. Figg's thoughts had been when she found said garment shoved through her back door's cat flap...musings for another day.

When she was nine, she'd cast a wandless imperius curse variant on one of her dad's coworkers to force him to stop trying to frame Vernon for embezzlement, Dudley called it her 'Obi-Wan'ing thing'. This was considered to be impossible once again when she'd later relayed it to a befuddled Professor Flitwick.

When she was ten she had immolated an ancient master vampire that had kidnapped her and her brother, afterwards she'd burnt down his mansion. She'd often called this misadventure her first random encounter, as well as boss battle.

In retrospect she really should have looted the place but Dudley, being the dutiful big brother he was, egged her on to torch it to relive one of Indiana Jones' great escapes.

He only ever told her why he'd done that this summer, when he'd found her sneaking shots of whiskey after yet another nightmare about Sirius's murder. Apparently he'd found the vampire's lolita zombie girl collection that he'd intended on adding Iris to, and Dudley hadn't wanted his sister to see it. She forgave the over protective goof of course, he gives good hugs to distraught little sisters.

When she was eleven she'd chased a terrified troll through the halls of Hogwarts cackling like a madwoman as she cast lightning bolt after lightening bolt on the thing that dared to threaten Hermione. Later that year she'd caught Professor Quirrell on fire and ganked the philosophers stone as well; to this day Iris had no idea why Dumbledore thought the power of love had vanquished the possessed man but felt no need to correct the old meddler.

When she was twelve she'd taken Lord Voldemort's first horcrux from a _clearly_ compulsed first year student and threatened the damn thing into becoming her begrudging servant, even got a basilisk out of the deal. Oh she'd also caught Professor Lockhart on fire for being a pedophile, then Neville banished him out a window, Neville was brilliant like that.

When she'd been thirteen she killed a shite tonne of dementors, like all of them, the ones in Britain anyhow. Something else that was considered impossible beforehand but what can a young mage do? They were after her awesome prison escapee Godfather who totes promised to get her a motorbike and tattoos when she was of age, so the dementors had to go. She knew perfectly well mum and dad would _never_ allow such a thing on their own after all.

Sirius had always been brilliant like that...she really missed the old dog...

When she was fourteen she'd slain a dragon, killed two mermen, a chimera, two blast-ended skewrts, seven Death Eaters, and a poor bunny who got in the way of one of her frostfyre curses.

Oh, she'd also caught Barty Crouch Junior on fire and Dudley had thrown him down a staircase.

When she was fifteen she tortured a woman to death, then burnt her corpse to ashes.

Umbridge shouldn't have made Luna use a blood quill.

No one touched Luna.

No. One.

When she was sixteen she'd been harangued into attending a very stupid Halloween party hosted by a... _wonderful_ upstanding faculty member. Slughorn's nature wasn't creepy in the slightest...no sir...

Iris had been hiding by the punch bowl quietly explaining to Dudley that with or without Sirius being around she was still going to get those damn tattoos, when something many would call impossible happened.

As it was explained to her much later, a very drunk Professor Slughorn had been swinging about some ancient Egyptian scepter sent to him by some important colleague or another as he explained its significance. Suddenly, as to emphasize his loud statements he slammed the butt of the scepter into the ground causing it to begin hissing.

 _This_ was followed with the snake head top of the scepter snapping open releasing an ancient demonic scarab, which immediately made for the slightly cracked door to spread its infernal plague upon the world.

Sadly for it, Luna had set up mistletoe earlier in an effort to catch nargles, said nargles assaulted the scarab and it exploded in a flash of incompatible magics that caused one of the Professor's vampire friends to erupt in flames.

He then proceeded to run around screaming much to Iris's nostalgic amusement. She didn't have anything against the bloke really, it just reminded her of her first random encounter is all.

 _This_ led to Hermione helpfully throwing a pitcher of water on the poor vampire, seeing as how she once again forgot she was a witch who could _conjure_ water and cast fireproofing spells. Unfortunately, the pitcher had been full of vodka and this only exacerbated the problem.

As this was all happening, Colin, who had snuck into the party, took a picture of the highly bemused Iris at the exact same moment Dobby popped into the room to help 'The Great Iris Potter', which startled Dudley into dropping his slice of custard pie.

Something in this chain of events caused Iris Potter-Dursley to jump dimensions to the world of Westeros, and for the life of her she couldn't find it in herself to be surprised when the story was later told to her.

Nothing was impossible with magic after all, just...highly improbable, and often times accomplished in a rather silly manner.

Iris's rather...interesting arson filled past had prepared her to accept quite a few things others would just disregard, her arrival to this realm not withstanding. That being said, as she was brought into the great hall of the Castle of Winterfell, sat at the table of the Warden of the North, and regaled about her ancient ancestors, she couldn't help being skeptical.

Apparently, according to Lord Eddard (who incidentally was _not_ LARP'ing) there had been an offshoot of the family that had married off their youngest daughter to a minor Lord near what was now White Harbor. She had three sons, who as young men had all vanished as they crossed a bridge they had built over a flooded river during a great storm.

Decades later the youngest son, Ignotus, returned home speaking of a world of long lost magics, and a cloak of invisibility he had won from the Stranger himself that he had conveniently left behind with his children. Having nothing to show for his tales, Ignotus was ridiculed and shunned, thus he passed in the night, his family name dying with him.

"So you see my lady," Lord Stark continued, "as you call yourself Peverell, well it dusted off a very old fable passed down through the generations. If what you say is true, while distantly, yes, you are family."

Iris worked her lip a bit at that as the various men, and Lord Stark's wife exchanged somewhat skeptical looks before the young woman spoke up.

"Soo..." she began slowly, "How can I prove who I say I am?" One of the men snorted, she hadn't bothered to learn his name yet but she didn't like the way he scoffed whenever magic was mentioned.

"Well for starters you could show us the Cloak of the Stranger!" This earned guffawing laughs from a few of the men for some reason, Iris wasn't sure why, it hadn't been very funny.

Unfortunately, her annoyance and pride spoke before her common sense could, "Ok."

With that she pushed back her chair, stood up, pulled out the cowl of her cloak throwing it over her head. As she pulled the hem of the cloak shut it shifted from deep scarlet to watery silver, then the young woman simply vanished.

Much to her amusement most of the gathering looked gobsmacked, channeling a bit of her Dogfather she snuck up to the man who had spoken and whispered "Boo!" He screamed like a little girl as he turned around to see her pull the cowl back, bright white teeth shining from her wide grin as wine red hair pooled down her shoulders.

The still wide eyed Lord Stark simply swallowed once and nodded, "I do believe I need a drink..."

*Sigh,* why did she always get that kind of response from adults?

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 **And now the setup is complete! On to the real story! Tallyho!**


	3. Corrupting the Young, Because it is Fun

**So doc manager crashed for quite literally no reason, lost a bit of work, had to rewrite it, does not make for a happy author.**

 **Anyway, Iris has made it clear she's magical but she has endeared herself to the ever practical Northerners the best way she could, I.E. sanitation and hot water.**

 **So, have fun, hope you enjoy, and next chapter should be longer in so long as the blasted thing doesn't crash again.**

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Iris sat crossed legged leaning against the heart tree of Winterfell's Godswood, staring up at the splayed hand shaped blood red leaves with a wistful smile playing across her lips. Looking down she ran a thin finger along the bone white trunk as her creeping hand led its digits down to the base of the roots that burrowed deep into the rich loamy soil. Closing her eyes she lulled her head to the side to observe the unfathomably deep black pool of water that was bare meters away, its chilly depths cooling the already frost touched air around it.

She liked it here, quite a bit.

Honestly it reminded her of the Forbidden Forest when autumn began to set in, it had been such a beautiful forest once she had burnt out all the Acromantulas and flambe'd their nests.

Ron asked for very strange birthday gifts, but who was she to argue with a friend who looked that pleased when he received the news? Boys were strange, really.

Having a sudden funny feeling Iris ejected her wand from its wrist holster and brought it to eye level staring at its knobbly length a moment before pushing it to the tree; wouldn't you know, it was the exact same shade as the weirwood.

When Dumbledore had explained the Prophecy to her at the end of her fifth year, not even an hour after Sirius had fallen through the Veil of Death mind, Iris had lost it. She'd thrown fireballs, lightning bolts, energy blasts, you name it and she had used it on her surroundings to wreck havoc on the old fools sanctum.

One attack, quite by accident mind you, had hit Dumbledore directly thus disarming him, and for reasons unknown to her his damn wand wouldn't leave her presence afterwards.

So, after trying to return it, burn it, banish it, bury it, and even once asking Kreacher to drop it in the middle of the ocean, she'd just given up getting rid of it as it always returned to her bedside in the morning.

Same with that damn gaudy ring she'd lifted from his desk, it was ugly and looked worthless and she'd only taken it because you didn't break into the Headmasters office the first night back for your sixth year and not loot _something_ after all...

Where was she?

Right.

She idly wondered if the wand was made out of Weirwood, it looked the part really, and it would make sense because...oh...she hadn't noticed that symbol on the butt cap before...oh dear. It was the same as the one in the lining of her cloak and...oh good God please tell her she had not been this bloody oblivious...

Fearing what she was about to find Iris fished the ring out of her expanded bag and took a hard look at its heavily pitted surface, finally seeing an identical symbol in the center of its black stone.

A circle, with a triangle in it cut through with a line...a Deathly Hallow...

"Oh wowzers Luna is going to be so annoyed I became the Mistress of Death and didn't give her an interview..." It made...a truly terrifying amount of sense really, if she had actually accidentally combined the Deathly Hallows, via inheritance, assault, and theft, with Lord Stark's story... Well...maybe they wanted to come home?

"Bloody hell..." she muttered as she shoved the items back into their respective slots, these were heavy thoughts for another time, preferably when she was deep in her cups.

A moment later a quiet voice spoke up to helpfully distract her, "You shouldn't swear, you know, what mother says anyway."

Cocking a brow Iris shifted her gaze to a slip of a girl wearing a pretty grey dress with white trim, she was slightly long in face with piercing grey eyes and untamable brown hair.

"Hello Arya, and for your information mothers only ever find out what we want them to, and as neither of us wish to spend any more time then necessary with your boring as all get out septa, we shall both be keeping our tongues, yeah?" Arya made a face at that nodding quickly as she slid down the tree landing next to the redhead. Iris rather liked the girl, she was a free spirit that didn't wish to bend to the rules and conventions of this world and simply wanted to live for herself.

Probably why she was here at the moment, but Iris would let her sweat it out a bit, Sirius would approve since children needed to learn patience after all. That, and it was funny seeing them squirm a bit.

"Father says the King and his entourage shall be here within the week, are you excited?" Iris idly lit a ball of violet flames in her open palm and forced it to become the shape of Prongs, willing it to begin prancing about her fingers she turned to the delighted Arya smiling lightly.

"Not in the slightest, authority and me go together as well as puppies and house fires, that and I can't have fun like this with them around." In reality she didn't expect to keep her powers secret from King Robert in the long term, not that she'd bothered to hide them at this point regardless.

Really seeing as how there wasn't a group of creepy old men from Geneva just waiting to obliviate you for violating the Statuette of Secrecy to keep magic choked and constrained here and...grrr...she wasn't bitter...nope.

In her month with the Starks of Winterfell she'd outed herself as a mage fairly early on, because frankly the place, and its people, _stank._ Seriously, none of the heroic tales and movies quite conveyed the lack of sanitation in these civilizations and the ever present smell of body odor and shite was just too much for her.

So, first order of business was to charm all chamber pots with vanishing enchants, which immediately made her popular with the servants. Then she had carved runes into all the bathtubs...the far, far too few bathtubs... so one may simply press down on a rune to fill, empty, and heat the water.

This made her incredibly popular with most of the women in the castle, particularly Lady Stark who apparently wasn't all that fond of the crisp cold of the North.

Strange woman that Lady Stark...

Then off course she'd seen the ramshackle state of several of the abandoned towers and with a bit of a boost from the Philosophers Stone's permanent transfiguration ability she'd repaired most of the ancient castle.

In short, she was the Rock Star of the Stark Household. Even the Maester seemed to be intrigued with her abilities because, as he put it, "There is no smoke, there is no diversion, you simply change the world around you as you see fit. I...hold no desire to earn your ire in so long as you do not hurt my Lord and his family."

She respected that, and...oh...darn...both Arya and her newly arrived dire wolf were giving her puppy eyes...so not fair. Only _she_ was allowed to use that and...oh blast it all.

"Is there something on your mind Arya?" The girl nodded once and sprung to her feet throwing on a cheerful grin in the process, Nymeria barking happily as she hopped around her in the process.

"Yes! Please, show me more!" Rolling her eyes Iris clamped her fingers into a fist snuffing out the now stationary stag as she pushed herself to her feet. Cracking her head to the side she slowly drew her silver sword and twirled the ancient blade's handle between her fingers expertly before taking a proper stance. Arya pulled out the thin fencing style blade she had nicked from the armory and mirrored her instructor.

"Ok, before I showed you the basics so you didn't hurt yourself, now I'm going to show you some of the styles Sensei-Urahara taught me at your age and we'll move on from there. Trust me...you are _not_ ready for any of his more advanced techniques at the moment, man could truly have been quite mad... Now, follow my lead..."

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Jon entered the Godswood in search of his little sister in hopes of finding her before her Lady mother, what met his gaze though was a sight that stole his breath away. Arya was leaning against the heart tree with Nymeria in her lap, scratching the sleeping wolf behind the ears as she grinned up at Lady Peverell who was twirling her magnificent silver blade about herself.

"Now this is a hard parry, if you get enough momentum it gives you a few moments to give the bastard a nice swift kick to the crotch or a fist to the face. Oh! Rule to live by? Don't a punch a man in the jaw with a closed fist, more likely to break your fingers then anything, noses those? Free game Little Wolf."

Arya giggled at that, she turned her gaze towards the gate and saw Jon which immediately caused the girl to perk up, "Jon! Have you come to train with us?"

Spinning on her tip toe Lady Peverell turned to meet his eyes and he felt his throat constrict as those brilliant emerald orbs showed nothing but honest affection as she offered the Bastard of Winterfell a curtsy.

"Jon, so good to see you, as Arya has asked, are you here to join us?" Jon coughed in his hand and hoped to the Old Gods that he wasn't blushing as brightly as he thought he was as he quickly shook his head in the negative.

"No my Lady, Lady Stark was looking for little Arya here, it would appear she has skipped her afternoon lessons and is in a bit of trouble with the septa."

Much to his surprise it was Lady Peverell who snorted in dismay, "Oh that stuck up woman and her desire to turn her girls into chattel, ugh. Arya love?" The small girl perked up at noble's words giving her all the attention she could, "Go dance to whatever tune your boring mother wishes you to and we'll have more fun once you are done, yeah?" Arya sighed and nodded as she gently pushed Nymeria from her lap waking the now irritated wolf.

"Come on girl...lets go see what foolishness we must endure today..." With that she approached Jon, gave him a hug, then took off like a shot followed by her still groggy pet. Jon turned to Lady Peverell as she scooped her wide brimmed hat off the ground and placed it on her head, the ever present glittering sword now resting in its sheath on her belt.

"Well Lord Snow, it would appear you have scarred off my companion for the evening, how ever shall you rectify this injustice?" Jon stammered for a second not knowing what to say before the woman in red broke out into musical laughter. "Oh relax Jon, and if you call me Lady Peverell instead of Iris one more time I'll turn you into a newt just like I had Theon."

That had been funny. Jon was not even going to pretend it had not been. Theon spent the better part of a day as a small, slimy lizard for grabbing Lady Iris's bum, she'd later informed both he and Robb that Theon had been lucky.

Normally, she simply broke a man's arm for such impertinence, but felt Lord Stark would not appreciate her maiming his ward.

"I...could escort you to the kitchens for an early dinner, L-...Iris..." Her returning grin was the brightest, most inviting thing Jon had ever seen, he felt that way every time she gifted him with it.

"Sounds like fun! Maybe we can get Robb and Lord Stark in on a game of Cyvasse afterwords? Oh, or we could go hunting out in the Wolfswood, that could be fun too!"

Jon smiled once again as she accepted his offered arm and guided her out of the Godswood thinking this must be what his brother Robb felt like. Not treated like a bastard, not like a burden, not like an embarrassment, but as an equal.

Because Iris...Iris accepted who he was...and simply didn't care. She treated him like she did anyone else, well...aside from Theon, which as Jon had previously thought was rather funny. Titles, birthright, position in society, they didn't matter to the noble in exile, she liked him for who he was, and didn't care who it offended.

A few moments later Iris stopped chattering and gave Jon a strange look, "Something wrong Jon?"

He frowned a bit and before he could curb his tongue he mumbled, "I was just thinking this must be what it feels like to have a friend is all..."

She stared at him a few moments longer then necessary, and for the briefest of moments he _swore_ her emerald eyes flashed to burning violet before she threw him a cheerful smile.

"Don't be stupid dumbarse, this is what it feels like to have friends because you're my friend! Now come on, lets see if we can get all the lemon cakes before they go to Sansa, she's looking a bit heavy anyway!"

Jon didn't bother hiding his smile after that, he had a friend who wasn't a family member after all, and she wanted to cause some mischief. It could be fun, and more then likely, with Iris involved, most would laugh, rather then get angry.

Unless she caught something on fire of course, which really, being friends with Lady Peverell, was always a potential hazard.

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 **I'm aware newts aren't lizards, Jon however is not. Also, I'm fairly certain Iris has ADHD. Regardless, review my lovelies review.**


	4. Just Between Us Girls, of Course

**This spontaneous day-after-last-update-update is solely because reviewer sousie wished to see Iris interact with Catelyn Stark, enjoy and review!**

 **Oh, and I know how the update email works at times so if you're a bit confused by this chapter you probably accidentally skipped Chapter 3 which is waaaay longer than this and has Arya, Jon, and Iris interacting.**

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Iris was lounging in a steaming hot tub scented with rose petals and lavender humming the Zelda over world theme to herself cheerfully when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" She sing-songed, a moment later the door cracked open and in walked the bane of her existence, she who hates fun and those who enjoy it, Lady Stark.

"Lady Peverell, may I speak to you for a moment?" Iris narrowed her eyes at this intrusion as she quite nearly told the older woman that _no_ , she could not speak at the moment but thought better of it seeing as how she was at a bit of a disadvantage. Daddy didn't raise a fool, besides which the Starks entertained her.

She'd really rather not cause any issues with them that would result in her having to burn their castle down and ride off into the night. Way too much of a hassle and she was rather enjoying the bath regardless.

"What is it you would need of me Lady Stark that could not wait until I was out of the bath?"

Catelyn pursed her lips for a moment before grabbing a chair and perching herself upon it as she stared at the bathing woman who, for her part, was glad she had added bubbles to her bath to protect her decency.

That, and the rubber ducky, she hadn't failed to notice the Lady's confused stare at seeing it bobbing in its yellow and orange magnificence and that confusion alone was worth the intrusion.

On an unrelated note, sanity? Totally over rated and quite boring to boot.

"It is for the very reason you are currently in the bath that I am here to see you Lady Peverell, you've been avoiding me and meeting a young lady as she is wet and naked is as good a way to prevent her fleeing as any."

You clever bitch.

"Very well Lady Stark, I have been avoiding you, I admit it, what is it you wish to discuss?"

The older woman closed her eyes and seemed to try and focus her thoughts a few moments before nodding to herself, opening her eyes she glared at her fellow redhead a few moments before finally speaking.

"You are corrupting my children," Iris's response actually caused Lady Stark's breath to catch in her throat.

"Yup!" She chirped whilst popping the 'p' as she kicked at her bath water gently disturbing the bubbles on the surface as well as causing the ducky to bob up and down once again. She idly decided to name said ducky 'Ser Quackers' as Catelyn finally regained her composure.

"Why?"

No complex questions then, ah well.

"Simple really, I disagree with everything you are teaching your daughters and your sons, well Bran and Jon anyway. The latter of which I'm quite aware you've managed to make feel unloved and unwanted so don't think I dare mix him with your brood. You are frankly lucky he hasn't murdered you in your sleep for the damage you've caused his psyche, I know I would have already."

At this Lady Stark gaped like a fish, Iris didn't particularly care though so she continued on, "Arya has the makings of an independent leader and exhibits the inherent talents of a warrior born. You intend to whore her out to some Southerner Lord to make a trade agreement or the like, forcing her to spread her legs for 'the family' as it were."

Catelyn stood and clenched her hands into fists as she quivered in rage, "How dare you-"

Iris continued unabated, "Sansa, is a fool, you've had her suckle on the teat of fables and stories while doing nothing to temper her to the reality of the real world. That is to say, that you will be whoring her out to some Southern Lord to make a trade agreement or the like, but hey, at least he will likely be comely, right?"

Grinning now Iris stood sending a cascade of rose colored water flowing from her nubile body as she cocked her hips to the side resting her hands firmly upon them, "Bran wants to adventure, become a knight, explore the kingdoms, and he very well might get to do so. Unless something happens to Robb that is, then he is to be forced into running Winterfell once his father passes, which neither you nor Lord Stark have bothered training him to do."

Stepping out of the tub the naked young woman prowled towards Lady Stark who backed into the wall, grinning still Iris leaned forward until her moist lips nearly touched her ear.

"I could go on," she whispered, "But I don't think I need to, you've failed your children, all I'm doing is teaching the girls that you can die upon a blade without knowing how to use one, so why not know how to use it? All I'm teaching the boys is that a diversified education will only prevent their untimely deaths. All I'm teaching you," with this she pecked Catelyn on the cheek before turning around and re-entering the tub, "Is that you don't always know what is right for your family, even when you think you do."

Sitting back in the water Iris stared at Lady Stark for several moments before the now wide eyed woman turned and left the room slamming the door behind her.

Picking up Ser Quackers Iris stared at the rubber ducky a few moments more before speaking, "That went well, don't you think?" Squeezing the ducky it let out a cheerful squeak that she quickly smiled to, "You're right, next time, I'll start a few fires." Sinking back into the still near boiling water Iris let out a delighted sigh.

This was the life.

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 **There's your Catelyn and Iris moment folks!**


	5. Ned Truly Needs a Holiday

**So got a bit of a scathing review stating that this story was a crack fic due to how Iris handled Lady Stark. I disagree completely, but it brought up a few points that I felt I should expand upon so I made this chapter to flesh out Iris's (lack of) logic.**

 **On a side note, you offer scathing criticism in a guest post, I delete it. You post it under your name, I will respond politely and offer up an explanation of where I was going with my writing, don't be a coward and hide behind anonymity.**

 **Side note, next chapter Iris meets Tyrion. Just leaving that there.**

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Lord Eddard Stark left the great hall of Winterfell and came to a dead stop when he saw the grounds before him. His ancestral castle was impressive yes, even more so after Lady Peverell had repaired it to its ancient glory, yet the yards had always been sod and dirt, there was no real point to bother with anything more after all.

Northerners were a practical lot like that.

So he was of course a bit surprised to find most of the area paved in cobblestones, giving the magically repaired castle a look of refinement and grace it never had before. Glancing about he saw massive standards bearing the snarling dire wolf of House Stark, the _moving_ dire wolves mind, fluttering in the breeze affixed to the great walls, along with flickering sconces housing blue flames. It was all just...so...so...magical.

Hearing a scuffing noise to his right Ned turned to see Lady Peverell herself sheepishly toeing the ground with a slipper clad foot. It took him a shocked moment to realize she was in fact wearing a scarlet _dress_ with her hair up in double plaits, and for the first time he fully grasped what a budding beauty she truly was.

"Lady Peverell, I must admit I had grown to believe you would never wear proper attire befitting your station, you look most radiant."

Much to Ned's amusement she blushed heavily at that and shot her green gaze to the side as she curtsied in turn, "I thank you for your kind words Lord Stark, and I hope the...enhancements I made to your home are acceptable."

Acceptable...well the banners may be a bit much yes, otherwise...

"You've made the ancient seat of my House put shame to the Red Keep and all of Kings Landing My Lady. If I may ask, what spurred this on?"

Frowning she approached him and extended her crooked arm to the bemused Lord, who taking her queue, hooked his arm through hers and began walking across the yards beside the young witch.

"I...wanted to apologize for the way I treated your Lady wife, I do not believe my words lacked truth but they were...well..."

Ned snorted, "As blunt as a smith's hammer?"

She blushed once again and nodded quickly, "Where I am from, many of us hold power that the rest of the world does not share, amongst them I am considered something of...an apex predator. My sisters of the heart and my dear brother all share this power with me, we..that is to say myself, Dudley, Luna, and Hermione, are terrifyingly powerful.

"I am a straight forward woman. I am blunt, as you say, and am quite used to getting my way through the simple fact that even to my people, I am the closest thing to a God they will ever see."

She pointed at the cobbled ground and as she continued, "This transfiguration would have taken a group of wizards hours to do at best, likely it would take a day. Even then, it would last only for a week at most. It took me seven minutes and it will last forever, the only reason it took that long was because I was distracted by Ghost. He's so fluffy and thus I had to play with him a bit you see..."

Processing this and not sensing a hint of boasting Ned allowed her to guide him past the befuddled denizens of the castle as they took in the new additions before replying.

"You are so used to people taking into consideration that they quite literally cannot stop you if you disagree with them, that you tend to just do what you wish?"

She nodded solemnly, "Yes, and my words and actions were more than a little...forceful... These additions to your home are my final gift to you and your wonderful family, my thank you for taking me in."

Ned stopped and released her arm before turning and looking down into the young woman's wide eyes, doing his best to ignore the small tears gathered at their corners.

"Do you intend to leave My Lady?" She scoffed and wiped her eyes distractedly before shaking her head quickly.

"I assumed your Lady wife let my offense be known and I would be asked to leave, I just wished to give you something in return for your hospitality."

Ned inwardly groaned at this, was his wife truly so predictable that this young slip of a girl already anticipated her demands? He grimaced, yes probably, if her treatment of poor Jon was any indicator...

"She did make such a demand," her face fell, "and I denied it."

Her confusion was palpable which actually made Ned feel in a bit more control of the situation, eventually she sputtered out, "What ever for Lord Stark?"

He sighed lightly before gesturing to one of the many newly created benches lining the inner walls before approaching it, the teenage witch took a seat beside him and quickly crossed her legs in a lady like fashion. That was telling, she knew of etiquette and propriety, she simply chose to ignore it in favor of whatever fancy took her at the moment.

"My L-...Cat overstepped her bounds, you disagreed with the way she was raising our children and took it upon yourself to teach them what you felt would help them survive. You knew this would cause problems and actively avoided her in an attempt to stave off conflict. She cornered you, in the bath, and demanded answers. Answers you gave."

Ned pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back feeling far older than his years as he continued, "As far as I can tell, you've done nothing to harm my family. You've repaired and improved my home, you've taught my daughters the basics of how to defend themselves, albeit with some reluctance from Sansa. All while tricking my sons into teaching each other skills they had not previously shared, asking for nothing in return."

He turned to face the girl who was now staring at him curiously as he smiled lightly while shaking his head, "You may have been painfully blunt, but you were not wrong. Next time though, come to me with your concerns, it will cause fewer...headaches in the end."

She cocked her head to the side in disbelief, "Wowzers...so I'm not kicked out?" Her slip into childish innocence made Ned want to give her a hug, but he resisted.

Barely.

"No, you are not kicked out, after all you are family...and you get to meet the King on the morrow, although how that turns out will be anyone's guess."

Iris beamed the brightest smile up at him before wrapping him in a hug, it was improper yes, but the action was very much in character for her.

"Thank you so very much Lord Stark!"

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her in return, "You are quite welcome My Lady, just do me one small kindness? Try not to catch anyone on fire? Please?"

She released him and worried her lip before sighing, "If any hopeful young man's hands wander to where they are unwanted...may I...teach them a lesson?"

Ned smirked and nodded, "I practically insist on it."

She threw him a wide grin and an affirming nod, "No immolation then...for tomorrow anyway."

Ned sighed. He'd take it, it was probably the best he could have hoped for regardless.

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 **Poor Ned, so much stress. Please review!**


	6. Unlikely Fancies and the Drama Entailed

**EDIT- FUCK, I uploaded the wrong file, blame the heavy metal, not the alcohol. Regardless, here's the real update.**

 **Nothing clever, just felt like you'd like an update even though it lacks Tyrion, although no chance I can gum that up next chapter. Regardless, I hope you all like it!**

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Sansa was performing her needlework with Septa Mordane, as was to be expected of her, when she glanced to her little sister who was grumbling to herself in irritation. Shooting the younger girl a knowing smile their eyes met and Arya froze mid motion upon seeing Sansa's newly mischievous glint. In the past, only a few scant weeks ago, she would have looked down on Arya with contempt for her disregard for the pursuits of a proper lady, now though?

When Lady Peverell had been brought into the household she had changed everything, Sansa's entire viewpoint had been warped as the beautiful young noble had stood proudly before them grinning like a mad woman. She dressed how she wanted, she wielded a blade that weighed nothing and commanded magiks that had not been seen in generations with an ease that would make many feint.

She was, as Arya later put it, everything they should ever wish to be brought to life, a living Goddess ready to smite those that annoyed her on whim.

At first Sansa had dismissed her, sneered down at her, treated the new arrival like the commoner she supposedly was, and how did Lady Iris respond?

" _Stop being a bitch before I bust your teeth in. Seriously what the hell are they teaching you around here? Come on, you look like a sissy so I doubt you could handle yourself in a fight so I'm gonna have to do my best to beat you into shape. You people are seriously lucky I don't have any brass knuckles on me at the moment..."_

It had been...an enlightening experience to say the least, and while she still had no real desire to fight, Sansa felt a foreign spark of...Pride? Yes pride, deep in her bosom when she thought about the knives hidden about her body and her knowledge of how to use them. She was only on the cusp of her training yes, but Lady Iris had shown her the steel at her core, and she would always be thankful for that revelation.

These thoughts roiled to the surface as she stared at her little sister who eventually met her gaze evenly, the little brunette locked her eyes to her own and then cocked her head to the side in confirmation. Sansa smirked as she shifted her head slightly towards the door, grinning Arya nodded and as one the two sisters rushed away from their scandalized Septa as their dire wolves barked happily at their heels.

Oh they'd be in trouble for this most certainly, Sansa knew this, but it was worth it. As she sprinted beside her little sister Sansa glanced up at the hall they were passing and saw a pair of glowing violet eyes framed by head of wine red hair, and the young woman's toothy grin was completely unmistakable as she gave Sansa a knowing nod.

If a Goddess agreed with her actions, what did she really have to complain about?

* * *

Sansa woke up groggily the next day and met the gaze of Lady Peverell who was grinning down at her without any real malice as she repeatidly tossed a knife in the air casually catching it by its blade.

"Morning my little song bird, the King and his playthings are showing up today, and we must make a good impression yes?"

Sansa grimaced and sat up while nodding slowly, her Lady mother had brought that up the previous evening as she had scolded her for going off and having fun with Arya rather then sitting through the Septa's rather inane lessons.

"Yes, there is a high likelihood my Lord father will be asked to become the Hand of the King, so mother feels I will likely be betrothed to the Prince in turn to seal the partnership."

Iris let out a deep hiss at that earning a shocked stare from Sansa, the young woman's normally emerald green gaze had shifted to violet and Sansa had to resist the urge to whimper as she felt the pure unadulterated rage pour from the older woman.

"Yes...your mother is performing some rather significant misogynistic alchemy at the moment, turning women into objects and all that...regardless, that wasn't my point."

Sansa relaxed as Lady Iris calmed down and her eyes cooled back to their natural green color, "I have set up a tent in the back, you and Arya will meet me and I will apply your makeup and find you a dress that befits your station."

Sansa opened her mouth but stopped in shock as Iris leaned forward and pecked her lips lightly causing her to freeze mid motion, "No complaints, I want you two to look your best. I want you to make the Queen herself feel like a beggar unworthy of her own station, much less being in the presence of true beauty. My gift to you both, my little sisters that never where."

With that Iris twirled her cloak about herself and vanished, the only way Sansa knew she was truly gone was due to the door closing itself. Sighing she left her bed and threw on a simple brown dress, deciding then and there to ignore the flustered feelings Lady Peverell had roiled in her core.

So. Not. Fair.

* * *

Arya entered the courtyard and cocked her head in disbelief as she took in the canvas tent resting in its center, glancing to Nymeria she shrugged and walked forward pushing the flap aside and entered only to freeze in shock.

Endless sets of clothes hung on racks as far as the eye could see, dresses, weapons, suits of armor, and everything in between shimmered in the blue lights of the enclosed sconces lining the walls. Lady Iris stepped out and spread her hands wide giggling slightly as she took in Arya's perplexed gaze.

"Welcome to my wardrobe! Look through the dresses, see what you like, and then meet me and your sister in the washroom while I do my best to clean the two of you up!" With that she turned away leaving Arya to her own devices.

Normally, she'd completely ignore the authority figure in question and go exploring, but she seriously respected Iris and her ability to catch annoying things on fire so instead did as instructed. Sifting through the gathered clothes she eventually snagged a silver dress off a hook and stared it in awe.

It was like shimmering moonlight, as if there was an inner glow to it, and even though she hadn't tried it on she knew it was exactly what was needed this evening. Turning to Nymeria she grinned widely which earned a happy doggy grin from the wolf in question.

"What do you think girl, should I take it?" The dire wolf barked in agreement and Arya threw the dress over her shoulder making her way to the bathing room, hearing murmuring she prowled along the edges of the canvass walls and peered into the room and froze in shock.

Sansa and Lady Iris were naked, both in the bath, as Lady iris worked some sort of thick blue gel through Sansa's hair, the young woman in question blushing heavily as this was occuring.

"The thing I really hate about this world, outside of the lack of proper toilets, is the fact that hair care seems to be something of a novelty. You have so many split ends love what _are_ you doing with this beautiful mane of yours?"

Sansa blushed further before shrugging her bare shoulders, "I just use the oils and soaps my Lady mother gives me, I really don't have any other options do I?"

Iris sighed while shaking her head, "Right right, ok, I think that'll do it but I'm going to have to trim your tips, sorry to say. Ok, get dried off and I'll apply your makeup." With that both women rose gracefully from the water, Sansa cocked her head to the side and grinned before leaning in, pressing her body to Iris's and she kissed the older girl chastely before pulling back still smiling.

"Thank you, Lady Peverell," as she walked away to dry and change Iris stood there flabbergasted a few moments before gripping the sides of her head in frustration.

"No, no, no, no, no, no...not happening, not dealing with this, gonna dress them up, meet this fat king, and avoid catching anyone important on fire, so so so not going down the Luna path again. Not. Fucking. Happening." With that she nodded and walked away, leaving Arya in confusion as to what the hell had just happened between the two young noble women.

After Arya had bathed she was pushed into a soft white robe that felt like down feathers and was dropped before a mirror. Iris appeared at her side grinning manically as she pulled a cart to her side carefully selecting brushes before grabbing a jar of...paint? What was this stuff?

"Now," Iris began, "I am not _nearly_ as good at this as Lavender but I do have experience, so let us see what it takes to make you, _beautiful."_ Arya had no idea why she did it, but her painful groan seemed highly appropriate as she stared at the older girls reflection while trying to tune out Nymeria's pained whimpering.

* * *

Lord Stark was looking about in annoyance as he awaited the arrival of his daughters and Lady Peverell, the King was soon to arrive and Robert wasn't known to be the patient sort, even to family and friends. Seeing a head of red hair appear from the corner of the Great Hall he relaxed then froze as he took in his daughters and his ward.

All three looked like Goddesses, hair pulled into elaborate braids, faces ever so slightly covered in some kind of paint, dresses clinging to their curves that seemed to be spun from the very moonlight itself. Jon, who had his gaze locked directly on Iris grinned widely as he shook his head muttering "So...this is what love feels like...interesting..."

As the trio reached the family proper the girls took their places next to their brothers as Iris stood alone, glaring at Lady Stark Jon gathered his willpower and approached Iris while offering his arm.

"My Lady, may I escort you for this evening?" Iris grinned, and nodded as she pecked his cleanly shaven cheek while pulling him to her side.

"You most certainly may, Lord Snow." The entire time, neither noticed Sansa glaring at her half-brother and the redhead at his side.

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 **Short, but a swift update. What do you guys think? Please review!**


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